


jam #09: Three Masked Beauties

by PokeNirvash



Series: Kinky Kunoichi [9]
Category: Jam-Orbital, Original Work
Genre: Bondage, Detective Work, F/F, Jam-Gagging, Kidnapping, Lezdom, Over-the-Nose (OTN) Masks, S&M, Synthwave, Tokyo (City), Yakuza, Yoyogi, kunoichi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 08:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20094481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PokeNirvash/pseuds/PokeNirvash
Summary: The wise and expertly skilled leader, Nawa. The brash and sadistic disciplinarian, Tazuna. The mischievous and excitable subordinate, Fuji. These three ladies comprise the trio known as the Kinky Kunoichi, lurking the outskirts of yakuza battlegrounds in the near-dead of night, on the prowl for cute girls to turn into their playthings. Who will their next victims be?Oh, and Naokuu and Shin get back to business, for those of you that care.





	1. Prologue

“Agghhh, I can hardly _stand_ it!”

“You seriously gonna go on about it again?”

“Yeah, why _wouldn’t_ I!? We’ve been havin’ battles every day for the past week ‘er two, and all a’ them _sucked_! I can’t _not_ complain ‘bout somethin’ that rilin’, _you_ know that!”

It was mid-afternoon in the depths of Yoyogi. A densely packed network of buildings between five and seven stories – no more, no less – almost all of them tenement housing with businesses on the first or second floor, depending on where the main entrance was. The tan brown buildings were in too nice a condition to be considered slums, but with their brick and stucco exteriors cracked and peeling in various places, in addition to the broken, boarded-up windows littering the collection of panes on the whole, it was noticeably less glamorous than the city beyond. The borderline-decrepit building conditions, the closeness of each structure even when across the narrow streets, and the difficulty of sunlight getting through and leaving what open spaces there were in anything besides shadow. Those factors made it more than sensible that nobody would be out in the open, not in this microcosm of a walled city.

One of the few exceptions to this rule were two yakuza, seated at one of five tables in front of the entrance/open-air patio of a restaurant on the second floor of one of the five-story buildings. The patio was boxed in by buildings on one side and a balcony railing overlooking a barren, narrow downslope on the other, with two sets of stairs branching from either midpoint and leading down to ground level. The tables were white and plain, empty of most essentials for outdoor restaurant seating. No napkin dispenser, no condiment holders, not even decorative parasols. The only things on the sole occupied table, in the upper corner of the balcony-bordered side, were two cans of beer. The first of the two yakuza, a skinny individual in an unbuttoned off-white formal jacket with a dark red sweater with gold necklace underneath, gripped his beer can as he chatted to his companion, the tips of his digits threatening to dent the aluminum body. The other, a beefier fellow in a mauve jacket with thin yellow stripes going down either sleeve zipped to the middle, and a white dress shirt with unbuttoned collar underneath, slowly slipped on his beer as his fellow yakuza blathered on.

As the mouthier yakuza came to a pause in his rant, the calmer of the two pulled his beer can away from his lips and sighed. “You’re exaggerating. Every battle you speak of has been successful, in its own way.”

“You _really_ don’t get it. Successful battles aren’t the same as _good_ battles!”

In the meantime, a figure in the distance watched the two yakuza converse from behind the façade bordering their place of discussion. They watched steadfastly, and listened as well as they could on top of that, their dull red eyes framed by magenta eyeshadow not even pausing to blink.

“See,” the first yakuza continued, holding up his beer with one hand and pointing at his companion with the other, “what _I’m_ looking for in a battle are some real _challengers_. Not some weak-ass punks who know they’re gonna lose, no.” He closed his eyes behind his sunglasses and turned his head to the side, pointing his palms downward as the one kept holding his beer. “They gotta be _fearless_, like they _know_ they can take us down if they put their minds to it. And then I can go all _out_ against ‘em!” Alongside his emphasis, he raised his beer and slammed it down on the table, some of it fizzing out the opening at the top. “Someone like _that_.” He then raised the can to his lips and started chugging what was left.

“So you’re looking for somebody _strong_.”

Just as quickly as he started, the skinny yakuza finished his beer, slamming it back down on the table with a refreshed sigh. “Yeah, that or real cocky. I want one who’s _both_, a real aggravator type, like those idiots from the Fuyuzora.” He finished off with a quick laugh.

The second yakuza’s natural scowl widened as he glared at his partner through his own pair of sunglasses, but not out of anger. “Sounds like _you_ just want another massacre. Either way, you’re in luck. Tonight we’re goin’ up against the Kigokoro at our territorial border with them. They’re only second to us in strength, so they should put up a decent fight.”

The first yakuza raised his arms above his dark grey-haired head, his hairline receded enough to expose the head of a dragon tattooed beneath the rest of his short hair, and stretched, grunting softly. After that, he put his hands on the table and stood up from his seat, forcing the chair back with his motions.

“If you say so,” he replied, standing still as his full-headed companion rose up in turn, not needing to stretch. “Still, a fight against the Kigokoro, and _this_ close to home at that? I’m gettin’ pumped _already_!”

“Yeah, yeah, save it for the battlefield.”

“Oh, you _bet_ I am!” As they walked off in the direction of the staircase further from their table, the skinny yakuza thrust his fist into the air with excitement. “Tonight we paint this golden triangle red!”

“What did I _just_ tell you?”

The figure watching them also observed their departure, their sight slowly moving from straight in front to the right as they tracked their movements. Their hand, dressed in a glove that exposed all fingers at the joints, pressed against the building wall to their right as they leaned in to finish watching them walk off.

It was only once they started down the stairs that they made any further movement within the narrow crevice between the buildings. They smirked underneath the magenta face mask covering everything from nose to chin, lowering their head and closing their eyes.

“Excellent work, boys,” Tazuna commented as she rose from her genuflection atop one of the metal pipes connecting between the two buildings on their fourth floors. Dressed in her usual magenta leotard and light pink thigh-highs with scarf wrapped around her neck, she stood upright with her arms by her sides, looking down at where the two yakuza once were with mischievous intent. “Your help is much appreciated, as always.”


	2. Act 1

The glass cover over the face of the plate-sized analog clock affixed to the plaster wall of the apartment was cracked, diagonally from the 1 to the 7 with another crack branching off from the center to two ticks above the 8, but it continued working, telling time as it had been for as long as it had been hanging there. The time was 3:55 P.M., the minute hand ticking away every second at an excruciatingly slow pace, and the hour hand moreso.

The pair of closed eyes before her, the upper lids painted magenta, mesmerized Fuji, who stared at them with intent as opposed to stupefaction. Her voice thrummed softly as her stare continued in that minute, not just at Nawa’s shut eyes, but her form as a whole. As she had many times before, she sat against the windowless side wall of the main apartment space, with a throw pillow serving as her seat. She sat in a half-lotus pose, her right leg on top, with her hands intertwined and the palms facing down. True to her meditative stance, she moved nary a muscle.

“How long has she _been_ like this? Nine, _ten_ hours?” Fuji asked these questions to herself out loud as she sat cross-legged across from Nawa on the tatami floor. “I didn’t think you could meditate for that long. Not without nature calling, at least. Nothing I’ve said or done since waking up has disturbed her, not a bit. I wonder…”

After staring at Nawa’s tranquil, motionless form for another moment, Fuji raised her head some, blinking once as she straightened her posture in further curiosity.

“Just how deep in _is_ she?”

She gazed forward at her senior kunoichi for a few seconds more. After that, she leaned forward, moving out of her cross-legged position and onto her knees, planting her left hand on the ground before her as she started crawling her way over.

Upon reaching Nawa, Fuji brought her right hand forward and lightly double-tapped her left shoulder. Her spandex-covered index and middle digits tapped the bare skin not two inches beyond the sleeveless white robe a couple times after; one single-tap, and another double-tap. As she made those moves, she whispered onomatopoeias to herself. “Ton. Ton. Ton-ton.”

Next, she knelt by the same side, pulling down her mask and blowing air into Nawa’s ear. “Byuuuu…”

Shortly after, she squatted in front of Nawa and poked at her forehead. Once, then twice in succession, and once again. “Poke. Poke-poke. Poke.”

Then she moved to her right side, reaching over and running her fingers across her exposed, stocking-clad sole in quick, light touches. “Koochie-koochie-koochie-koochie…”

Not even that was enough to evoke a reaction from Nawa. She remained stationary and reactionless, her eyes failing to so much as twitch from Fuji’s various methods.

Fuji sighed behind her mask in defeat, pressing her hands against the tops of her thighs as she leaned in close at Nawa once more. “Damn. Well, that’s Mistress Nawa for you. Even her meditation is impressive.”

As she continued looking at her, Fuji’s gaze moved from Nawa’s face to her chest. The pair of Gs fit snugly, but not too tight, within the confines of the robe, the magenta-lined V-neck exposing her cleavage but refraining from showing too much of the tops of her breasts. But even as it left plenty to the imagination, the size and shape of her mammaries proved just as mesmerizing to Fuji as her closed eyes.

She gulped softly, her eyes having widened at the impressive sight before her, and then looked down at her right hand. “Dare I…” A second of thought passed, and with a blink that brought her bright red orbs to a cheekily mischievous state, she started slowly reaching forward. “Ah, what’s the harm?”

Cautious, and at the same time insistent, Fuji’s gloved hand stretched out, inching closer and closer to Nawa’s breasts. Her palm faced her target and her digits were spread out and slightly bent at each knuckle, as if she were a predator making the final preparations to grab her prey before striking. She was close to making good on her opportunity; less than five centimeters close, even! But then…

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Yah!” Fuji yelped, her arm’s advance grinding to a halt with a single twitch. Her eyes were wider now than they were before, and several beads of sweat were running down the unmasked half of her face. She didn’t need to turn around to know the voice ringing out behind her.

“…Well?” Tazuna asked, her voice more impatient than her crossed arms and austere glare made her look.

“T-Tazuna, hi!” Fuji turned back at the other kunoichi with closed eyes and anxious inflection, her hands buried in her lap as she faked a smile with both the seen and unseen halves of her face. “Back from scouting so soon already, huh?” She nervously laughed to herself, in the hopes that it would lighten the mood.

“Don’t dodge the question, Fuji,” Tazuna reproached, tilting her head slightly. “You were planning on disrupting Mistress Nawa’s meditation again, weren’t you?”

Fuji’s eyes shot wide open as she let out a frightened shriek she stifled as much as she could. Once it died out, she lowered her magenta-painted eyelids some in as much of a calm as she could bring herself down to. “Uh… _sorta_.” She closed her eyes and pointed back at Nawa, crossing her right arm over her chest as she did. “But nothing I did could rouse her, so I thought, you know…”

“You thought you could cop a feel from her and get away with it? Not on _my_ watch!”

Fuji slowly opened her eyes as Tazuna growled out her response, but they shot open as soon as she saw her full reaction. She stood in an authoritative pose with her sandaled feet spread apart and her back arched for further intimidation. In her hands she held the middle portion of a length of pink nylon rope, clenching her fists around either end and pulling it taut. And her glare was even more severe, her eyes practically overflowing a bright, nearly blinding red. Combined, they made a terrifying image that made Fuji shriek again, only with no time for her to stifle it.

“W-Wait, Tazuna, stop! You don’t need to go this far!”

“Oh yes I _do_! Otherwise you’d just go and try it again!”

“It’s just one grope! She wouldn’t have even noticed!”

“And if she _did_, it’d be _both_ our asses and not just _yours_, you naughty little minx!”

“Ahh~! N-No, Tazuna, please… Not there… _Anywhere_ but theeeaaahhhh~!”

The girls’ back-and-forth, intercut with and accompanied by the sounds of rope squeaking and digging into flesh, happened right in front of Nawa, and yet no sound disturbed her as she continued on with her meditation. Not a muscle was moved, nor did a single noise come out of _her_ mouth in response.

As the contrasting activities continued, the clock continued slowly ticking away. Following a few more periodic noises, the minute hand returned to the top with a harsher click. It was now 4:00 P.M.

It was then that Nawa opened her eyes, calmly and coolly with only the need to exhale into her mask afterwards.

“Ah, that was a nice rest.” A second passed, and then she noticed. “Hm?”

Upon her eyes’ quick readjustment to the main apartment space, lit only by the cloud-peppered sky outside the flat’s few curtainless windows, she was greeted with an interesting sight. Fuji, tied up shibari-style with her arms bound in a takatekote tie, legs bound together, and a kikkou-karada body harness to finish it off, groaning behind her OTN mask as she wiggled around in place. And behind her, Tazuna, grunting as she pulled the end of the rope she used for the shibari, one foot on the ground and the other pressed against Fuji’s ass, forcing the unfortunate kunoichi to arch her back and moan even more.

“What are you two doing?”

“Ah!” Both girls gasped in unison, stopping what they were doing as they realized Nawa was awake and watching them. They blinked simultaneously, taken completely aback by the subtle action their superior made. In further response, both girls stood straight and faced Nawa, though Fuji remained bound and Tazuna remained holding the end of the rope.

“Oh, g-good afternoon, Mistress Nawa,” Tazuna stated anxiously. “I was just practicing my bondage skills on Fuji here, that’s all.” She raised her left hand, still holding the rope, to demonstrate.

“That’s right,” Fuji said with a faux-cheerful nod. “I’m her live target for the day!”

“I see. Any reason you’re practicing _here_ and not in the back room?”

That question startled them further, their eyes widening and the sweat on the upper halves of their faces increasing further. Tazuna glanced at the ceiling to her right as she tried to come up with an excuse.

“Um, well…”

“You know what, never mind all that.”

“Huh?”

“Wha?”

Tazuna and Fuji both blinked again, their surprise waning but remaining present to a decent degree as they looked down at Nawa, her eyes closed as she continued on.

“What matters is that the both of you are here.” She reopened her eyes. “Which means it’s time we go over tonight’s itinerary. So, shall we get started, girls?”

The other two kunoichi listened to what their senior had to say, and once they understood, they responded in kind. Tazuna brought her hands forward and bowed. Fuji just bowed. Both closed their eyes, and spoke together.

“Of course, Mistress Nawa.”

Minutes passed after the kunoichi officially reconvened inside their apartment hideout, located in one of the upper stories of the white steel building, which was old and yet lit up by the afternoon sun to a modicum of respectability. Even at eye level, they couldn’t be readily seen through the window closest to the wall where they gathered. Nawa remained seated on her throw pillow, while Tazuna and Fuji, the latter unbound, knelt before her at an angle. Tazuna was to Nawa’s right, and genuflected, while Fuji was to her left, kneeling regularly with her butt resting on the heels of her stocking-clad feet.

“First things first,” Nawa started, “Tazuna, have you learned where tonight’s battle will take place?”

“I have, Mistress,” Tazuna replied with a nod. “The pair I regularly observe said that it’ll take place within Shibuya.”

“Ah, a local battle, then.”

“So it’s an outside invasion?”

“Not necessarily. The opposing clan is also from Shibuya, one of the other Golden Triangle clans, in fact. Can you guess which one?”

“Ooh!” Fuji perked up, pressing her hands against the tops of her thighs. “Please tell me they’re fighting the Hakkara!”

“In that case, I’ll pick the Kigokoro.”

Tazuna raised her hand and gave Nawa a thumbs-up. “That’s correct, Mistress.”

“Aww!” Fuji hung her head in disappointment. “They’re _never_ gonna fight the Hakkara…”

“I don’t see why they would. Their defenses are rather strong, so it wouldn’t be worth the effort. That and their battle-night curfews are very strict, even when there’s no quarantine order.”

“Which means no Harajuku girls for _you_ anytime soon, Fuji.”

“Awww…” Fuji’s head dropped even more in dismay.

“And where in Shibuya will they be fighting?”

“Same place as before; their territorial border along Meiji Avenue.”

“I see.”

“Wait, isn’t their border along the rail lines?”

“No,” Tazuna told Fuji, “you’re thinking the border between Yoyogi and Sendagaya.”

“To be fair, that _was_ their border at one time. The portion of Sendagaya between Yoyogi’s rail line border and Meiji Avenue fell to the Shimizu a few months ago, hence the present situation.”

“And the Kigokoro are aiming to take it back?”

Nawa closed her eyes. “Most likely, yes.”

Fuji squealed in joy at the slightly older kunoichi’s affirmative response, her eyes sparkling brightly as she clenched her fists tight in excitement.

Nawa opened her eyes again. “That said, the site of abduction should be easy. The backroads by that historical site in northern Sendagaya was where we caught our prey the last time the Shimizu and Kigokoro fought. Assuming tonight’s battle will be wholly at their border, we’ll use that area again.”

“Right. As for which of us will go out tonight…”

“Naturally, _I’ll_ be leading the capture.” She raised her hand to chest-level and directed it at herself. “And as it was the last couple of days, Fuji will accompany me. Is there any issue with that arrangement?”

“Not at all, Mistress.” Tazuna bowed to Nawa.

“No, Mistress, none whatsoever.” Fuji shook her head.

“Excellent.” Nawa planted her hands on the floor to either side of the pillow and stood up, grunting some as she continued speaking. “Now then, we have no time to waste.” She looked down at the ponytailed kunoichi first. “Tazuna, start preparing the back room for our eventual return.”

“Of course, Mistress.” Tazuna bowed again.

Nawa then turned to the twintailed kunoichi, gesturing for her to stand. “Fuji, come with me. We have some preparing of our own to do.”

“Yes, Mistress Nawa,” Fuji responded with a nod as she stood up, following behind Nawa as she walked away from her seat.

As she moved to the other side of the main space, Nawa chuckled softly behind her mask, as Fuji moved two to three steps behind her with a gaze of admiration, and Tazuna remained kneeling on the floor, glancing back at the others with a hidden smirk of satisfaction.

“_Such good subordinates you two are… There’s hope for you yet._”

********

Shin leaned back in his usual chair at the family dining table, staring up at the featureless white ceiling above. His right arm rested in his lap, while his left hung over the back of the chair. His blank expression was no longer one of hopelessness as it would have been yesterday, let alone two days ago or more. Instead, it was simple fatigue from having run around the western half of the city all day. Spacing out at a time like this was only natural, assuming that sort of thing came easy.

As he quietly decompressed, the rest of his family worked on their own early evening activities. His mother was in the kitchen, deep in the final stages of making dinner. From the sound of the metal lid rattling against its accompanying pot, it sounded like it was about to be dished up soon. His father and sister, meanwhile, sat at the table with him. Aika was absorbed in a picture she was in the middle of drawing, moving one of several crayons laid out on her portion of the table back and forth across the off-white piece of construction paper she used as her canvas. As for his dad, he sat in his usual seat and waited for dinner. Only unlike normal on days he didn’t stay late, he didn’t just sit and patiently wait for the food to be served. To pass the time, he chatted with the family’s guest for the evening plus however many days or weeks followed.

He let out a laugh, loud enough to be hearty, but not so loud as it was obnoxious or forced. “Is that so?”

“You’d honestly be surprised,” Naokuu replied. “It’s not everyday that this sort of encounter happens.” He closed his eyes and smiled wide as he spoke.

In the time since he set foot in Shin’s house, Naokuu had taken off his jacket, though he hadn’t yet changed his clothes or shaven his face. Still, his sweat-stained white tee and denim pants didn’t seem to visibly offend, nor had any odors he picked up from either his smoking habit or his brief experience being cyber-homeless. It was enough to allow avoidance of tidying himself up, at least before the dinner that was about to be served. Taking advantage of this extra time, he sat at the dinner table, in the chair between Shin and his father, backed away more than either two and turned towards the latter as he conversed with him.

“To keep a long story short, I was working on this investigation that I was _so_ close to solving. I had no idea I was headed for a dead end, but before I _could_…” He reached back and placed his hand on Shin’s shoulder, snapping him out of his daze with a quick blink of the eyes. “Along comes Shin with a witness report big enough to solve the case just like _that_!” He turned back to the older man to his right. “Your son really helped me out there!”

Shin turned is head to the side slightly and blushed just as much, letting out a small smile. “Please, it was nothing…”

“Hey now, don’t be so modest…” Naokuu slapped his hand down on Shin’s shoulder two more times, only the first eliciting a surprised grunt out of the younger man. “Anyway, things were going good, but I kinda overstepped my boundaries while trying to close the case, and that screwed me over _big_ time.” His smile faded for a moment as he raised his left hand, holding up his index first and his middle to join it second. “First I got suspended, and then I got evicted. I was near the end of my rope, but then out of nowhere, Shin stepped in and offered me a place to stay ‘til I’m back on my feet.” He lowered his two fingers and pointed his thumb back at Shin, without having to move his hand an inch. “He’s helped me out _twice_ now, and I can hardly thank him _enough_!”

Shin turned in Naokuu’s direction, blushing again as he was brought up. Unlike his more humble response, he closed his eyes and smiled, chuckling softly as he rubbed the back of his head, as if flattered by Naokuu’s embellished thanks.

“That said, I hope I’m not taking advantage of your son’s kindness by staying here, Mister Kizuka.” Naokuu brought his hands together and bowed his head to Shin’s dad.

“Ah, it’s no big deal,” he replied. “Any friend of Shin’s is a friend of mine. So feel free to stay as long as you need, alright, Tanoshiba?”

“Of course, sir,” Naokuu nodded again.

“Umm, excuse me, Mister?”

“Hm?” Naokuu glanced across the table at Aika. She kneeled in her seat and reached across the table as far as she could, the paper she was drawing on in hand.

“Please take this,” she said. “It’s a gift for you.”

“Ah, thank you,” Naokuu replied, reaching over and taking the paper. He brought it closer and turned the drawn-on side towards him, with Shin leaning over some to take a look.

The picture, crudely drawn in crayon as one would expect a six year-old’s drawings to be, was of two young adults against a generic background scribbled in with bright green on the bottom half and blue on top. One of the figures had black hair, a gray long-sleeved shirt, and dark blue pants. The other had brown hair and facial hair around the mouth, a black jacket over a white shirt, and pants of a lighter shade of blue. Even in this simplistic illustration, the two men could tell it was of themselves. Beyond physical appearance, the figures of Shin and Naokuu in the picture had smiley faces, and were holding hands.

Naokuu closed his eyes and smiled at Aika. “It’s a very nice picture. Again, thank you.”

Shin, on the other hand, backed away with an embarrassed blush across his face, glancing off to the left.

Aika sat back in her seat and smiled wide, giggling happily in satisfaction at Naokuu’s reply.

“All right, everyone,” Shin’s mom said as she entered the dining area, carrying two of a larger number of medium-sized bowls in her hands. “Dinner’s ready.” She then set the bowls down; one by her seat, and one in front of her husband.

“About time,” he said in a relaxed tone.

In a matter of minutes, all the bowls and dishes she prepared were placed on the table. The meals made for Naokuu, Shin, his dad, and herself were the same. The main dish was stewed beef with carrot and sweet potatoes, which shared its bowl with a few scoops of white rice that took up one side of the dish. Accompanying the main bowl were three smaller ceramic basins. The black one had miso soup with tofu cubes and spring onion, and the two white ones had pickled lotus root cut in half-circles and carrot-and-burdock kinpira with white sesame seeds. Each collection of dishes had its own pair of chopsticks; Shin’s red, the others’ black. As for Aika, she had just the stew and rice bowl and a plastic spork.

At the sight of the small-scale spread laid before him, Naokuu gulped. “Looks really good…” He reached his hand up and grabbed his chopsticks, gravitating them towards the main bowl.

Shin glanced at Naokuu with a small smile as he voiced his response to the dinner, but before he could see his hand snake onto the table, he turned back and closed his eyes, bringing his hands together as he lowered his head. Just as the rest of his family did. At once, they spoke in unison.

“Thank you for the food.”

“Ahhhh…”

The barely quiet, involuntary moan that started to voice itself at the end of the family’s thanks made itself known as soon as they finished. Before they even thought to lower their hands and get to eating, they all turned to look at Naokuu. He had already used his chopsticks to grab a chunk of meat from the main bowl, and was inches away from eating it. He stopped in his tracks, though, when he noticed all eyes were on him. His own orbs widened, sweatdrops of mortification ran down the sides of his face, and the “ahh” sound from his mouth faded into a lower volume indicative of his awkward position, nearly ending in a high-pitched squeak.

Swiftly, he brought his chopsticks down into the bowl, leaving it and the beef behind, and clapped his hands together, elbows pointing to either side of him, and speedily declared…

“Thankyouforthefood!”

Shin and his family stared for a moment at Naokuu’s actions, having moved their hands back to either the table or their laps as they took it all in. And then, they broke out into laughter. A soft laughter of well-meaningness that required no more oral movement than simply smiling. The smile accompanying Shin’s chuckling was open enough to show his teeth, while Aika’s mouth remained fully closed for hers.

After letting her own laugh out, Shin’s mom moved her hand away from her mouth, put there in amusement, and picked up her chopsticks. “Now that _that’s_ settled, let’s get to eating, shall we?”

“Hear, hear!” Shin’s dad exclaimed as he raised his own chopsticks, tapping the ends together before bringing them down to his bowl.

The positive mood retained at the dining table immediately calmed Naokuu down. What embarrassment he showed not a moment earlier had faded, replaced with the same warm smile that appeared to persist throughout every Kizuka family member in this moment of togetherness. He was a part of it, and there was no chance he was going to waste it. Even so, he said nothing, simply lowering his head and chuckling to himself in the amusement of having narrowly avoided a crisis of etiquette. He then brought his chopsticks back up and popped the beef chunk held between the tips into his mouth, looking straight forward as he started to chew.

********

The Saturday night skyline of Kabukicho glowed a blue on the border of gentle and harsh against the dim violet sky, giving the evening post-dusk an aesthetic befitting of the decade. Which, of course, meant it was time for the serial kidnappers to make their departure once again.

Nawa raised her right leg and planted her sandal-clad foot against the open windowsill. “Are you ready to go, Fuji?”

“Ready when you are, Mistress,” Fuji replied, mimicking Nawa’s actions but with her left leg instead of her right.

In unison, the two looked back at Tazuna, who stood behind them with her arms crossed. Only Nawa opted to speak, however.

“You know, you’re free to accompany us if you like, Tazuna.”

“I’d love to, but I’ll pass. You two _clearly_ have this routine on lockdown.” She uncrossed her arms, letting her left hang while she pointed behind herself with her right thumb. “Besides, I still have several toys in back that need my attention.”

“Very well. Then we’re off.” Nawa turned back, facing out the window.

“Have fun!” Fuji waved to Tazuna, smiling with her eyes before once more mimicking Nawa.

Again in unison, the two disappeared in a flash, the air shifting and blowing into the main room as they headed out for another night of abduction.

Tazuna simply stood by the window as they departed, countless prior witnesses having desensitized her to the normally startling manner of her compatriots’ leave. As the wind blew through her ponytailed hair, she smirked under her mask.

“Oh, I will~,” Tazuna said with an evil chuckle, turning around and walking away from the window. “Now who to play with _first_…”

********

Compared to Kabukicho, Shinjuku Ni-chome, the Golden Gai, and other, more livelier neighborhoods to the north, the external night life in Shinjuku Yon-chome was fairly sparse. One narrow one-way street nearing the border between Shinjuku and Shibuya, mostly apartment buildings with a small percentage of restaurants and similar leisure establishments, was pretty much barren. Nonetheless, for those who _were_ traversing the passage with adjacent conditions in mind, the streetlamps attached to the wooden utility poles running along the eastern side gave them enough light to make their way from one end of the desolate corridor to the other. Nobody that was already out, be it on foot or behind the wheel, bothered to take that route. Those coming from within the buildings lining it, however… that was a different story.

“Ahhh… _That_ was certainly fun.”

“Yeah, fer sure! It’s _always_ a blast doin’ this sorta thing with ya!”

Two schoolgirls in their late teens emerged from the first floor entrance of a three-story building, the right side of the black-walled façade bearing a sign advertising one of the businesses within. The sign, a dark red-violet with white lettering, read “エスカペード アーケードBF”, or “Escapades – Arcade BF”, with a down-pointing arrow to further indicate that the arcade in question was in the basement. That status was no longer of any matter to either girl, however. Just their departure. The first of the two calmly stepped past the doorframe, stopping after stepped down from the sidewalk onto the asphalt, her black round-toe shoes clicking against the pavement. Her companion, following behind her, was more energetic in her movements, running up to her friend before slowing to a stop. She lightly tapped her shoulder and continued past, hopping down onto the main street and jogging ahead, after which she turned around and faced her friend, who giggled shortly after she finished speaking.

Both girls’ uniforms were seifuku-style, consisting of a white top with blue collar and wristcuffs and a purple neckerchief, a blue pleated skirt, and white kneesocks that went an inch or two above the knee. The more informal of the two ladies, facing her friend with her hands behind her back and a wide smile on her face, had black hair with blue-dyed bangs, tied in low chest-length twintails that rested over each shoulder, and baby blue eyes.

“So, whaddaya say we hurry on back?” she asked cheerfully, closing her eyes and widening her smile. “The Sendagaya backroad’s mighty nice ta’ walk this time o’ night.”

“Mm, I dunno…” the other girl asked, bringing her hand to her mouth. She had short brown hair cut in a bob, brown eyes, and a slightly smaller chest. “I heard there was a battle going on down there right now.” She glanced to the side with a slight squint, her cheeks turning red. “Don’t you think we’ll be putting ourselves in danger going that way?”

“Ah, there’s no _chance_!” The blue-banged girl moved her ands to her hips and puffed up her chest in pride. “Ah’ve gone through Sendagaya on battle nights more times than ah can count, and not _once_ have they ever gotten ta’ the backroad!”

The brown-haired girl grunted softly, still unsure about going on ahead. But then, just as she moved her hand away from her face, her friend grabbed it and squeezed it tight, making her gasp.

“Trust me on this one. Things’re gonna be _fine_ out there, so long as we stick together.” She shot her companion a confident smile, stifling a brief giggle of additional credence behind her closed lips.

She blinked once, blushing brighter at the trust the other exuded. Shifting her fingers to hold her friend’s hand by the thumb, the brown-haired girl lowered her head and let out a small smile.

“Sure, if you say so.”

“Atta girl.”

And so, the two went on their way.

********

Like Kabukicho and Shinjuku Yon-chome to the to the north, the night sky above Sendagaya was tinted blue by all that illuminated the neighborhood streets that laid below, snuffing out as many stars in the distance as it could, leaving only those in the empty black space bordered by the fringes of light. In the case of Tokyo Route 305, also known as Meiji Avenue, individual window lights from the ten-plus story buildings on either side and streetlights evenly spaced inches from the sidewalk curb served as the main sources of luminescence. Sources that were indirectly yet thankfully helpful for the two parties gathering in the middle of the chiefly four-lane arterial. Both had a mix of individuals dressed either in suits, ties optional and sunglasses more common than not, or in less formal attire, from unzipped hoodies and sweaters with skinny pants to more dressy options like two-tone Hawaiian print button-down shirts. The Shimizu on the west side of the highway, and the Kigokoro on the east, the two stood across from one another, in the midst of the prelude to the battle to come.

“Well, well, we meet again at last,” the leader of the Kigokoro’s attack forces greeted. “I must say, I was expecting our two clans to face off much _sooner_ than this.”

He was a man of above-average height in his late 30’s, with a dark brown punch perm and pencil mustache with a break in the middle, dressed in a black suit, the jacket unbuttoned to reveal his dress shirt, a Hawaiian print colored orange and white. His weapon of choice was a samurai-style long sword with a dark brown scabbard and a black handle wrapping, which he held with his hands pressed against the pommel and the scabbard tip touching the ground. Mimicking his pose with their own long swords were his two right-hand men, also dressed in suits with exposed shirts. The one standing behind him to his left, a thin man in his mid-20’s with black hair whose bangs covered his right eye, wore a standard white dress shirt, while the one to his right, a muscular man with a clean-shaven head, had a wifebeater on under his suit jacket. Compared to most of the twenty to thirty men behind all three, neither one wore sunglasses.

“I could say the same,” the Shimizu’s attack forces leader remarked back.

He was the beefier of the two yakuza discussing the battle earlier, bearing his sunglasses just as he had that afternoon, and in the same clothes to boot. His thinner companion stood by his side, his head raised with teeth gnashing and fists clenched as he struggled to hold himself back. In contrast, the twenty to thirty men behind him were rather calm, and in line, the leader, posed with his right hand in his pocket and the other hanging free, continued.

“If you and your men were itching for a fight so early, _you_ should’ve been the ones to instigate it, not _us_.”

“Please… Like we’re _dumb_ enough to invade _your_ guys’s territory.”

“Oh really? Even the portions you lost in our last battle?”

As the attack leaders’ back-and-forth persisted, two figures perched atop one of the apartment buildings looming over Meiji Avenue, watching. One with her amber eyes, the other with her red. Both sets half-lidded, their eyeshadow prominent, and whatever expressions their faces’ lower halves conveyed, hidden behind their masks.

“If you don’t want your land back, that’s fine by us. Just don’t whine about it when we’re giving you the chance to _take_ it back, you buncha damn cowards.” He raised his head, glaring at the Kigokoro through his shades with a grin on his goateed face.

In offense, the Kigokoro attack leader’s two right-hand men grabbed their swords, blades exposed rather than sheathed, and prepared themselves to attack.

The bald subordinate growled. “Insolence!”

“You got a death wish there, pal?” the younger asked right after.

With closed eyes and a slightly insincere grin, the leader raised his hand as his men spoke, alerting them to stay put. Once they finished, he resumed.

“Don’t get us wrong, we _do_ want to get back what we lost.” He opened his eyes, glaring right at the Shimizu’s attack leader as his grin faded. “But the fact that you’re even _giving_ us this chance to begin with is laughable. You won’t get anywhere by being selfless to your enemies! It’s practically _weakness_!”

“Argh, I can’t _take_ it anymore!” The thin, white-jacketed yakuza with the Shimizu pulled his own sword out of his scabbard and brandished it, taking a step forward. “Wrap this shit up and just let me _at_ the bastards already!” He gritted his teeth and growled further, the attack leader’s held-out arm keeping him from taking another premature step.

“Whatever the case, it’s nice to know we’re on the same page. Now then…” He brought his other hand up in a gesturing pose. “After you.”

The Kigokoro attack leader’s grin returned, widening into a toothy smirk with a slight grunt.

“Here it comes,” Nawa said in near-hushed tones.

“Yeah,” Fuji nodded, leaning in a tad to join her superior in watching the impending start.

The Kigokoro leader grabbed the handle of his sword with his right and swiftly swung it upwards, the scabbard flying into the middle of the avenue as the bare blade pointed up at the sky, gleaming in the lamplight from behind the crowd. He inhaled trough his nostrils and clenched teeth, and then jerked his head down, giving the initializing order.

“Let’s do this, men! Show those Shimizu shitheads that we mean business!”

The men behind him erupted into a series of affirmative cheers, from as legible as a simple “Yeah!” and “All right!” to unintelligible shouts that got the point across well enough. Much like their leader, the crowd raised their various weapons – guns, bats, swords and the like – into the air one-handed, with the right-hand men leading the group gesture with their own cries of determination.

The Shimizu attack leader’s grin widened, snickering behind his clenched teeth. “You heard him, boys!” he announced to his men. “Go nuts!”

“Aww yeahhhhhhhhh!!!” The white-jacketed yakuza on the Shimizu’s side excitedly exclaimed, gripping the handle of his sword tight with both hands. As the rest of his allies threw in their own shouts and cheers of readiness to fight, he sped forward with weapon in hand.

The Kigokoro leader took note, grunting under his breath as he steadied himself and held up his sword, prepared to block the Shimizu number two’s first strike. He rushed across the highway in strides akin to that of an athlete, his sword raised and tilted to the left in preparation of attack. He shouted loud as he came closer and closer, and when he was there, he brought his arms down, and the blade with it.

Nawa’s gaze narrowed slightly, whispering another few words.

“It’s begun.”

The two blades connected, clinking together as the first clash of the night’s battle began. The Shimizu yakuza stopped in his tracks, grinning madly as his sword trembled in his hand, pushing against the enemy’s as hard as he could will it. The Kigokoro leader, meanwhile, stood his ground, remaining still with his sword held firm, blocking his opponent’s such that for all its twitching, it didn’t budge an inch further forward. The Shimizu’s frustration was clear in his tightening grip, but his grin never wavered. Raising his blade just a tad more vertical, he leaped back, swinging his sword to his right in preparation for another attack as he did. The Kigokoro scowled, lowering his head and gripping his own sword tight. With a quick shout from both, the two rushed at one another, preparing to enter a true one-on-one like the footsoldiers engaged in combat around them.

“Let’s go,” Nawa said, closing her eyes for a moment as she stood upright from her crouching position. “Our next target awaits us.”

“Right,” Fuji replied, nodding to Nawa as she also stood.

The wind shifted atop the building they were on, and just like that, they disappeared. At least, that’s how it appeared at a direct glance. The pair of kunoichi had indeed left the spot where they observed the yakuza battle below, swords clashing and gunfire going off across the width of highway they considered their battlefield, but neither had vanished into thin air, like one staring at the same spot looking for answers would be led to believe. Instead, Nawa and Fuji went airborne, leaping over Meiji Avenue to the buildings on the other side, silhouetted in the blue penumbra surrounding the near skyline. It wasn’t long before they made their landing, merging with the shadows on the top of their landing spot, and upon their fifty-meters high touchdown, they dashed off across the rooftop to their main destination: the Sendagaya backroad.

Near the rear fringes of the battle, one of the more well-dressed Kigokoro soldiers stepped back and raggedly gasped for breath. Blood ran down the left side of his face, dripping onto his white dress shirt and the gold necklace serving in place of his tie. In spite of his injury, he remained firm, holding his sword upright. When one of the enemy Shimizu rushed at him, he gritted his teeth and pushed forward, his blade clashing with theirs.

The kunoichi ignored it. They leaped down from the roof of the twelve-story building they dashed across after clearing the avenue, landing on the metal shack serving as the third and top floor for a much shorter adjacent building. Both landed without issue, squatting as they crouched to a landing, low enough to avoid being spotted by whoever happened to look out the windows of the apartment complex behind them. But even then, their presence was brief, as they leaped off to their next landing point.

The battle on the ground intensified as it leaked into one of the side streets branching off the main drag. Two yakuza clashed swords multiple times, taking turns delivering blows and blocking them. An adjacent streetlight superimposed their silhouettes onto the blank side wall of a building, depicting their back-and-forth. After trading yet another pair-and-a-half of stalemate clashes, one of the combatants pulled his sword back and slashed it across the other’s chest. They groaned in pain, the blood emerging from their chest at the slice splattering against the wall to join his shadow, falling backwards to the ground.

The kunoichi ignored that also. They ran across the flat-topped roof of one of the three-story residences set further back from the avenue, jumping just before their running legs could make contact with the adjacent power lines. Leaping across the intercutting street below, they landed on the roof of the next house and continued on.

Before long, Shimizu footsoldiers pushed even farther against the Kigokoro’s line, to the point of breaking through. One of them, dressed in a polo shirt with rolled-up sleeves, moved away from the main conflict and dashed into a purple-tinted alley, furiously shouting as he brandished his sub-machine gun, ready to shoot whatever enemies he found that far in. The noise he made proved to be his shortcoming, however, as he was shot in the back of the end from behind by a Kigokoro member. Stopping all he did, he fell face-first to the ground, his gun falling before he.

Even if they were around to hear it, the kunoichi too ignored it. Before long, they reached the backroad as promised, the streetlights bringing out a more natural color along the route as opposed to the lights further inward, dousing their surroundings in cool colors. As quietly and as swiftly as they arrived, they made themselves comfortable in their hastily selected stakeout spot. A five-story building by the side of the road opposite the historical site and Shinjuku Gyoen Park beyond it, with balconies on the second through fourth floors that were completely solid and reminiscent of partially open book drop doors with curved bottoms. They settled on the fifth story, crouching behind a standard railed balcony where neither would be easily spotted from the ground. The source of their target, whomever they would reveal themselves to be.

Back at the center of everything, a yakuza in a sweater held up a six-chamber Mateba autorevolver, finger on the trigger and ready to pull. Without a moment’s hesitation, he fired, the shot ringing out harshly, both closeby and in the distance.

“Ah!”

The brunette schoolgirl stopped in her tracks with a frightened jump at the sound of the far-off gunshot. She held her arm up in worry , hand closed and at chest level, as she glanced off to the right, in the direction of the fainter rapid gunfire that followed.

Her blue-banged companion took a few more steps forward before stopping too. “Hm?” She turned her head and looked back at her friend in an assuring sort of concern. “Hey, what’s the matter? I told ya there’s nothin’ ta’ worry about back here, didn’t I?”

The brunette looked back and nodded to her friend. “R-Right, sorry. I just got a little spooked, that’s all,” she said as she resumed walking.

The blue-banged girl turned back and grinned wide, with closed eyes and a somewhat amused giggle, moving again shortly after her friend did the same.

With the sudden distraction out of mind and still out of sight, their travel home along the backroad continued. Unbeknownst to them, they were within both range and sight.

“Hmm… down there. They certainly look like suitable targets.”

“And there’s _two_ of them!” Fuji held up her arms and clenched her fists tight. “Lucky us!”

Nawa turned to look at Fuji. “Shall we go down and greet them?”

Fuji turned and nodded to Nawa with an affirmative grunt. “Let’s do it!”

Both women faced forward, lowering their heads with one hand resting on the ground before them. Nawa’s hand was already in that position, but Fuji moved hers into it as she turned back. The wind shifted, and they were off again.

Their targets continued their walk down the middle of the barren one-way backroad, the blue-banged girl walking in front with a cheerful smile and her hands behind her back, moving as if she had a spring in her step, and the brunette following behind, glancing to the side in either lingering nervousness or blooming embarrassment. Regardless of the specifics, the wind shifted before them, the sight following bringing them both to a stop.

Though the brunette stopped calmly, looking forward with a soft gasp through her slightly open mouth and a single blink of the eyes, her friend in front halted much more suddenly, holding out her right arm in a protective stance as she glared at the figures before them.

“Good evening, ladies.”

“Who the hell are _you_?” the blue-banged girl asked as her glare intensified, cutting right to the chase.

The two women before them were certainly stand-outs, especially for having dropped in out of thin air. The black-haired, twintailed girl fresh out of her teens to her left, wearing a pastel purple tankini and thong with black spandex opera gloves and thigh-high stockings. The slightly older, long grayish-pink-haired woman with a magenta-lined white robe that exposed her stocking-clad legs and emphasized her generous assets. Both wearing sandals on their feet and cloth masks over the lower halves of their faces. Whoever they were, the unfortunate passersby thought, they weren’t here for any noble reason.

“Our identities are of no concern to you,” Nawa stated, her arms crossed under her bust. She slightly shifted her position so she was standing more upright, her breasts bouncing as she did. “Nor _should_ they be.”

“Yeah,” Fuji agreed, leaning in a few inches as her right hand rested on her hip and her left hung by her side. “In fact, if there’s _anything_ you two cuties should be concerning yourselves over, it’s that you’re walking around such a dangerous part of town this time of night~.”

The brunette whimpered softly in growing dread, holding her hands up to her chest as she stepped back. “W-We’re just heading home, that’s all. We weren’t going to be here long, not at all…”

The blue-banged girl turned to look back at her friend in concern for a moment, just as quickly turning back to face the kunoichi. “Look, we don’t have the time for any a’ this! Just tell us what’cha want and be done with it!”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Nawa remarked. “What we _want_ are the both of _you_.”

“And we _won’t_ take ‘no’ for an answer,” Fuji added.

“The hell you _won’t_! You ain’t layin’ a _finger_ on her, let alone _me_. Not without a fight!” The blue-banged girl put up her fists in preparation to fight, which brought her friend’s unsettled state to a slightly greater height.

“Ooh, a _feisty_ one, are you?” Fuji turned to Nawa, pointing at their would-be aggressor. “I’ll let you take that one, Mistress.”

“With pleasure.” Nawa uncrossed her arms and started walking towards the girls. “Feisty ones are just my type.”

“Oh yeah? Well go ahead an’ _try_ me!”

“Wait, what are you–!?”

The brunette’s call came too late. Just as she started reaching out to pull her back, her friend dashed off, screaming furiously at the top of her lungs as she charged at Nawa. In contrast, the kunoichi calmly continued walking, each step against the asphalt as quiet as could be, even without the yelling filling this portion of air free of clangs and gunshots. As the gap between them lessened more than halfway, the blue-banged girl held up her right fist, preparing to strike at Nawa, who to her moved so subtly, so elegantly, she might as well have not been moving at all. With a twitch back, she propelled her fist forward, and then the wind shifted.

Her punch failed to connect as it tore through the night air. Her eyes widened as she let out a soft gasp of disbelief. In this world of hers, a landscape of pure white where all but her self and the target of her aggression had vanished, the unthinkable had happened. Nawa was no longer there. She disappeared before the girl, robbing her of her intentions in a single instant. Seconds after she reacted, she reappeared, standing several feet behind the girl, facing the same direction she had before, in the same pose she walked with.

“What the…” The schoolgirl blinked again, her disbelief now coupled with confusion.

“Hm. Too easy.” Nawa held up her right hand, nestled in it the end of a length of rope. She gave it a sharp tug forward, stopping after several inches.

The world of white burst out of existence, like pressure was being applied to it from several sides at once. In a lesser application of that same principle, the seemingly abundant length of jute rope constricted the blue-banged girl’s body, forcing a gasp from her as it dug into her skin with the same force that crushed her willpower. Two lengths doubled up in rope came down from either side of her neck, moving between her breasts until it dropped off to her torso, the two halves then moving over and under each individual C-cup, before meeting in back and forming an ushirote tie. The rope continued around front, meeting just below the belly button and running between her legs, the skirt straining on either side of the crotch rope. The remainder of the continuous tether bound her legs in three places: at the thigh inches above the knee, at the shins inches below the knee, and at the calves. Each bunch of rope tied in those places had a wrap between the legs to further restrict her movement, and a taut doubled-up length coming from the ankle ties joined up with the crotch rope, forcing her to bend her knees and tilt back. She grunted harshly behind her gritted teeth, tugging at her binds in a spirited attempt to break the full-body harness with strength that she clearly lacked.

Her struggling came to an abrupt end as Nawa once more tugged the rope. The girl yelped as she suddenly found herself flying through the air, from the place she was stopped to where the kunoichi now stood. Once she was close, Nawa grabbed the other end of the length of rope connected to the network of ties, located just below her box-tied arms, and held her up, glancing at her with her nigh-unflustered expression.

“That’s _one_ down.” She chuckled softly, raising her right hand. A shorter but denser cord of rope hung off her thumb, while her fingers gripped a lavender-colored wad of cloth the size of a potato.

The girl gritted her teeth again as she glanced back at Nawa, grunting under her breath to amplify the effect of her glare. Its effect proved minimal, making both the anger and fear in her expression mix together thoroughly, especially as she noticed the additional tools in her sight. There was nothing left she could do through her own merits. Thus, she pulled out her last resort.

“Hey!”

“Huh?” The brunette perked up at the blue-banged girl’s call to her, the panic on her face from witnessing the act that restricted her friend lessening but not leaving entirely.

“What’re ya just standin’ ‘round for!? Go get some hel-mmmppph!”

She was then silenced, as Nawa pushed the bundle of cloth into her mouth, swiftly yet with a gentle touch requiring only two of her five fingertips. As her muffled cries continued through the jam gag, her friend took a few fearful steps back, her right hand held close to her chest.

“R-Right!”

The brunette spun around on one foot and dashed off in the other direction. Her panic spiked, her eyes straining and pants of breath turning more ragged. It didn’t matter how far she ran, how many downward-facing beams of lamplight she had to run under. As long as she found someone who could rescue her friend as immediately as she could convince them to.

“I don’t think so!”

But before she could even get as far as the second streetlight along the way she already came, she heard the other kunoichi’s voice. She glanced back with a puzzled gasp, slowing her speed for just a moment.

In that moment, she knew she was in trouble. Several lengths of microfoam tape, gliding forward like hungry snakes, shot out from behind, coming so fast, she didn’t have time to find the source. Before she knew it, they tightly coiled around her body, each strip wrapping several times around. Above her bust, below her bust, around her waist, thighs, shins, ankles, and feet, and even restricting her arms into a binder-style tie on top of that. Aside from a gasp when they made contact and a grunt at the swift constrictions, she had little time to react, forced into a yelp as the hand holding the ends of all the strands forced her back. Not only that, but it swung her up into the air, several meters above the backroad. Each wrap of tape snapped off at the thrust upwards, leaving the poor girl without a tether.

Not to say that Fuji was finished with her. She tossed the bundle of tape she had left to the side, reaching behind her back with both hands and pulling out two bundles of purple nylon rope. She thrust both hands upwards in unison, the rope unwinding and rewinding upwards towards the airborne victim of her tape. Much like the adhesives, the ropes coiled in bunches around her torso and limbs, the tape around the latter crunching as the more complicated ties tore through them. Once the rope harness around her torso was complete, Fuji tugged the ends of the rope, digging into the brunette’s skin through her uniform as she was forced back down. More panicked than she was while running, she screamed sharply at the drop. Fuji moved her left arm, which held the rope, off to the side as she readied her right for the girl’s landing, palm facing upward with fingers curled. Her descent halted as Fuji’s hand made contact with her ass, the hand pushing against and squeezing the right cheek. Though it was through her skirt, it was still an intimate touch. As such, the brunette moaned softly, her cheeks glowing a bright red.

Fuji leaped back, tugging the rope again as she wrapped it around her hand, spinning the brunette around to face her. In the midst of her post-landing sighs, she rushed forward, forcing a big, pale pink jam gag into her mouth. “Mmmmmppph!!” She groaned around the wad of cloth as it filled her inner cavity with its great volume. As she did, Fuji sped behind her and pulled up multiple layers of white stretch fabric. Three of the bandanas went over the lower half of her face: a high over-the-mouth first, a standard over-the-mouth second, and an over-the-nose last. The last one was folded into four thin sections, going around her neck. With a swift yet intricate swipe of her hands up the back of her victim’s head, Fuji tied all four bandanas in back, moving her hands back just as swiftly to look at her handiwork as the girl continued groaning around her mouth packing. “Mmmhhh! Mmmhhmm!”

“Hehe…” She snickered behind her mask. “Perfect~.”

With her work completed, Fuji grabbed the makeshift leash she made out of the remainder of the ropes she used and turned the still-struggling, still-moaning brunette around in the direction of the other kunoichi and victim. She turned around also, cheerfully smiling with her closed eyes at her superior.

“Oh Mistress Nawa~! I’m all finished with our little runaway!”

“Ah, excellent.” Nawa looked back at Fuji, turning to face her. “I’m just about finished with _this_ one as well.”

As she was half a minute ago, the blue-banged girl was still in Nawa’s grasp. Unlike her friend, her jam gag was left revealed, and in place of bandanas, a thick bit made of rope was placed over the exposed wad. The makeshift gag pushed against the packing as additional ropes fashioned into a head harness kept it in place. She shifted around in place as Nawa pulled at the remainder of rope left in back, groaning around both gags.

“Ooh, that’s a _really_ nice rope gag!” Fuji walked back over to Nawa as she observed her handiwork. “Your creativity and dedication to detail never cease to amaze me, Mistress.”

“Why thank you,” Nawa said to Fuji with a nod.

“Now then, we should probably head back.” Fuji grabbed onto the brunette, wrapping her arm around her at the middle of her back and holding her close to her side as she turned to face the buildings along the backroad’s south side. “With all the noise these two made, someone’s _bound_ to show up. We can’t risk another witness, not after _last_ time.”

As Fuji spoke to her, Nawa wrapped the main rope leash for her half of the night’s catch around her hand and then slung the bound blue-banged girl over her shoulder, all as she turned to face the buildings along the backroad’s south side. Once she turned and crouched slightly in preparation for take-off, she replied.

“Hmm, learning from your mistakes _already_. Good girl~.” She crouched a little more, and then leaped into the air.

Fuji giggled, crouching as well and then leaping up to meet with Nawa.

Their five-story high jump brought them to the uppermost roof of the building they scouted the backroad from earlier. It was a small top floor, so they only made sandal-to-roof contact for a brief second before leaping onto the roof of the building behind, lower level but much more spacious. That second point of contact marked the beginning of their return run from the Sendagaya backroad to their hideout.

From building to building, rooftop to rooftop, neither woman let their beeline sight get distracted. Nawa gazed forward, her intent unclouded. Fuji did the same, though her glare was slightly less intense. Before long, upon finishing their most recent individual dash across a six-story apartment building, they reached Meiji Avenue. One sandal each on the edge of the roof, they leaped off in the direction of the side-by-side ten-story buildings across the street. They ignored the continuing battle below on the thoroughfare, swords clashing and guns rattling off ammo as in every other battle up to this point. The cacophony meant nothing more to them than camouflage that served its purpose. With it behind them, they soared to the other side, where the glowing blue skyline of Tokyo’s west side laid. Where Yoyogi, the enclave of the Shimizu clan, laid. Where their hideout laid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. “Ton”, or “トン”, is the Japanese onomatopoeia for tapping one’s shoulder.  
2\. “Byuu”, or “ビュー”, is the Japanese onomatopoeia for wind blowing.  
3\. “Takatekote”, which means “high hands”, is a type of box tie commonly used in shibari bondage.  
4\. “Kikkou-karada”, which means “turtle shell-body”, refers to a shibari rope harness with a hexagonal tie pattern.  
5\. Kinpira is a phrase that means “sautéed and simmered”, commonly used for Japanese root vegetable dishes.  
6\. Shinjuku Ni-chome is a number-designated neighborhood in the ward known for being Tokyo’s prime gay district, while the Golden Gai is a sub-section of Kabukicho known for its shanty-style bars and clubs and the artistic community that normally frequents the area.  
7\. The two girls that Nawa and Fuji abduct are, at least in terms of physical appearance, based off of the characters of Wossername and Aeria (Wossy and Aer for short), both originally created by online artist WossaRem. Wossy is the one with the blue bangs, while Aeria has the brown bob cut. In WossaRem’s works, the two normally speak in an American Southern and British accent respectively, but here, Aeria’s accent is gone, while Wossy’s is slight but taking the backseat to a generally more informal speaking style. Jam Orbital has collaborated with WossaRem multiple times in the past, and has drawn both Wossy and Aeria for his Pic Pack #4 and Jamsels in Distress 2. Jam also illustrated three additional pin-up images of Wossy that were included in the release of WossaRem’s Escapades Issue 1.  
8\. Ushirote shibari is a box tie similar to takatekote, only the forearms are bound such that they are parallel with one another, as opposed to them crossing one another at the wrists.


	3. Act 2

In Shibuya, the Shimizu and Kigokoro’s most recent clash was just getting started, and the Kinky Kunoichi’s latest kidnapping on the fringes of their battlegrounds was winding down. But further north in Nakano, things of a different, smaller-scale nature were well past winding down, the players having moved on to something else entirely.

Nearly an hour had passed since dinner in the Kizuka family’s residence. While most of the family were downstairs, likely relaxing after the impromptu dinner for five, their guest for the evening was on the second floor. Walking barefoot across the laminate wood surface from one end of the upper story hallway to the other, Naokuu rubbed his head back and forth over the same spot with a tan washcloth, his wiped-down but still damp hair ruffling with each motion. Before long, he pulled the hand towel away from his head, opening his eyes to face his destination.

Unlike his parents and sister, Shin was up in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed at the foot-end. He stared at the ceiling, the light switched on, and held his left leg in midair, occasionally jerking it up and down in favor of a more prominent swing of attempted patience. His wait didn’t last long, as the door creaked open and in stepped the person he was waiting for.

“All finished.”

“About time,” Shin replied as he brought his feet to the ground and stood from the bed, turning to face the door and who just walked through it. “That must’ve been one good shower, huh?”

“You bet,” Naokuu said. “I can’t _remember_ the last time I had a douse this good. I look, feel, even _smell_ like a new man!”

That he did. In addition to his hair having an added degree of poofiness from the earlier drying, Naokuu’s face was clean-shaven, the moustache and beard he had for the past several days completely gone. His cleanliness, a subtle yet notable visual improvement from the state in which he arrived, wasn’t the only representation of his self-proclaimed “new man” status. He also got a change of clothes, borrowed from the Kizukas. His new wardrobe consisted of a black T-shirt emblazoned with the image of a synthwave sun superimposed within the silhouette of a front-facing skull with sunglasses, the words “FEEL THE DARK SYNTH” split between the top and bottom, and a pair of khaki cargo shorts that stopped just above his knees. As he stood and faced Shin in his new threads, he raised his right arm and slung his hand towel over the shoulder by one of the four corners.

“Speaking of which, tell your dad thanks for letting me use his razor.”

“Can do,” Shin replied with a nod. His eyes glanced down, and he grinned cheekily. “Should I also thank him for your new shirt?”

“Ehh… _sure_.” Naokuu pinched part of the shirt’s upper portion and pulled it out, looking down in mild perplexity. “I can’t believe he just had this lying around. Outrun’s kinda passé, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s a little tryhard for New ‘80s music, but it’s still his favorite genre.” Shin turned around and took a few steps forward, eyes closed and hands in his pockets. “He seriously thinks it’s due for a comeback. And to tell the truth, I believe him.” He opened his eyes and looked forward.

“Tch,” Naokuu scoffed in amusement as he moved closer. “Man, you and your dad are real dorks.”

Shin lowered his head and sighed. “Look, we can discuss your superior taste in music later.” He looked up, his sardonic grin fading. “Right now, we should pick up where we last left off in our investigation. That is, we need to figure out where the Kunoichi’s hideout is.”

“Way ahead of ya,” Naokuu said as he stopped at the bookshelf next to Shin’s bed.

“Hm?” Shin turned and looked back at Naokuu in curiosity, Naokuu himself looking up at the shelf’s multitude of print contents with his hand to his chin.

“Do any of these books have maps of Shibuya in them?”

“Uh, yeah. Several of them do.”

“Good.” He reached up and placed his finger on top of one of the books, tilting it backwards out of the shelf. “So you won’t mind me marking one up, then.”

Shin’s gaze narrowed in suspicion, but kept loose enough to avoid being serious. “What are you planning?”

“Oh, nothing much.”

Naokuu grabbed a permanent marker from the small ceramic cup in the back corner of Shin’s desk, one with a clicker on the end. He turned around to face his younger partner, the marker in his left hand and a book titled “東京23特別区の地図” or “Maps of the 23 Special Wards of Tokyo” in his right.

“Just some additional context, that’s all.” He punctuated his statement with a grin and a click of the marker, exposing the writing end.

********

The wind shifted above the furthest windowsill of the Kunoichi’s hideout, the accompanying window staring out at the blue-glowing Shinjuku skyline as it always had. Not one second after the shift occurred, two figures appeared, crouching on the windowsill. Both were clad in sandals, and while the left individual’s gloved hand pressed against the thin ledge, the right opted not to give herself the extra support.

“We have returned.”

Tazuna waited outside the sliding door to the back room, leaning against the frame with her hands on her hips and her eyes open. She grunted softly behind her mask, moving her head forward a tad. “That didn’t take long.”

“Well, of course not,” Nawa replied, extending her right leg as she stepped into the apartment space. She still had the tied-up blue-banged girl slung over her shoulder, while Fuji, who turned around slightly for her entry in, still had her brunette friend tucked under her arm. “Our target location was closeby and familiar to us. A speedy accomplishment was only expected.”

“And look!” Fuji turned around to face Tazuna. “We managed to score _two_ girls at once this time!” As she made her proclamation, her arm’s grip on their brown-haired captive loosened, and then she flipped her around, catching her with both arms. In contrast to Fuji’s cheerful expression, the girl let out a slightly panicked yelp through her gag, wriggling around ever so slightly as she worriedly looked around the unfamiliar room.

Nawa, meanwhile, gently moved the blue-banged captive off from over her shoulder, holding her up one-handed by the rope tying her arms behind her back. “Hopefully they’re to your liking.”

The blue-banged girl was much more restless than her friend, thrashing around in her tight binds as she hurled unintelligible protests at her captors through her gags. “Mmmmhhh! Thnnf nnffmmph mmhmmph!!”

“Oh, they _are_, no question~.” Tazuna reached out and took the blue-banged girl from her superior, placing her left hand behind her ropes and lifting her up, resting the still-struggling and groaning girl on her shoulder. “Though I wish _this_ one would keep that big mouth of hers _shut_!”

With little warning, Tazuna raised her right hand and struck the blue-banged girl’s rear with the open palm. The girl squealed sharply from behind the cloth gag and the rope bit pushing against it, immediately ceasing her struggle. “Mmmmmmph!! Hmmmhhh…”

“We should break them in right away. Fuji, come with me. Tormenting these delectable morsels is a job for two.”

“Right away, Tazuna!” Fuji excitedly nodded, jogging over to join Tazuna with the brown-haired girl in tow.

Tazuna turned around and placed her hand on the shoji door, preparing to open it. Before she did, she looked back. “You’re free to join us if you like, Mistress.”

Nawa stood with her back to the interior wall beside the window, her arms crossed and eyes closed. “I appreciate the offer,” she said, then opening her eyes. “But I’ll have to decline.”

“Again?” Tazuna stepped past the open door to the back room, still looking back at Nawa. “You _always_ turn down opportunities like this. It’s like you don’t _want_ to play with our toys.”

“Clearly Mistress Nawa prefers the _gentle_ approach to play,” Fuji chimed in as she stepped into the back room as well. “Problem is, _our_ way of doing things is _anything_ but gentle~.”

“So true~.” Tazuna sinisterly laughed with Fuji joining her with a slightly less evil giggle.

Nawa just stood in the same place and position, blinking once as she silently watched Tazuna and Fuji disappear into the back room with the night’s catch, the two shutting the shoji door behind them with a gentle wooden clack.

********

After sitting in darkness for several minutes, the lights in the back room came to life once more. They weren’t bright lights; in fact, they were rather dim. They numbered three, fixed against the wall at eye-level, taking the appearance of a candle held inside a pair of rings like an old-fashioned night-light. The flames, however, were false. A candle-shaped bulb took the place of actual fire, emitting a warm magenta light. In spite of the light’s purely synthetic nature, fumes wafted from the faux candle’s container. Likely incense. It perfectly set the mood for what was about to occur.

“Mmmmmhhhh!” The blue-banged girl groaned against her gags, squeezing her eyes shut and raising her head as she felt the ropes around her tighten. Her binds had not changed from before, but additional lengths of rope originating from her arms, crotch, and ankle binds were rigged as such to partially suspend her.

“You poor, helpless soul,” Tazuna said in a sweetly mocking tone as she tightened the suspension rope attached to her arm bindings, making the girl groan some more. “You don’t realize how lucky you are. It’s not every day that you get to experience this kind of pleasure, especially from a pair of masked beauties like ourselves~.”

As Tazuna verbally teased the girl while securing her binds, Fuji did the latter with the other, rigging her up in a similar manner. A double-up of rope from the crotch and the ankles hooking in with two double-ups from the arms, producing a suspension attachment to one of the several hooks spread throughout the back room ceiling. Strong enough to avoid tearing, yet short enough to force them on tiptoes. The blue-banged girl had considerable difficulty standing in such a demanding manner, the heels of her feet twitching as her stocking-clad toes pushed against the tatami flooring, trying to keep her upright without making things too uncomfortable.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

Tazuna’s question made her open her eyes to a pained squint, sweat beads running down the exposed portion of her reddened face, and a bulging vein emerging on top of that, as she glanced at the kunoichi and started protesting in a series of unintelligible murmurs.

“Hmm _hmmph_ mm hmm hmm-nngh mm hmm mmph hmmmph-mmr!”

“I thought so.” Tazuna closed her eyes as she pulled back from the girl’s binds, sharply slapping her ass once again with her left hand.

“Mmmppphhhh!!” The girl cried out, closing her eyes once again as she started thrashing around the best she could in her forced tiptoes position.

“I’m all ready on my side, Tazuna,” Fuji told her fellow kunoichi as she approached her from the side.

“Yeah, same here,” Tazuna nodded to her twintailed associate.

Fuji then held up two tools, one in each hand. In her left was a bullwhip, and in her right a riding crop. “Which one of these would you prefer to use tonight?”

“Hmm…” Tazuna tapped her index finger against her cloth-covered chin, eyeing both whips. It didn’t take long for her to make her decision. “I’ll take _this_ one,” she said as she reached out and took the bullwhip. “It’s a perfect fit for our little brat over here. Use my crop well, okay?”

“O-Of course, Tazuna! Thank you!” Fuji tilted the crop’s tress towards her free hand and grasped it joyously, holding it close to her chest.

Tazuna returned to face the blue-banged girl, cracking the whip against the tatami floor. The loud snap made her jump to attention, and then tremble at the sight of the tool.

“But alas, it’s all too easy for this _pleasure_ to turn into _pain_.”

Suddenly, she thrust her arm back and brought the whip forward, striking the bound girl across her chest. The ropes didn’t break, but her school shirt ripped across, revealing her bright blue bra underneath. But even without breaking through the undergarment, the impact was all too sharp for the girl to withstand. Once more clenching her eyes shut, she threw her head to the side and let out a loud, muffled scream.

“Hrrrrrmmmmmmpppphhh!!”

Tazuna stood with her legs spread and her whip-bearing hand crossed over her body, crouching forward and looking at her victim as she gasped for breath the best she could around her jam gag and the rope bit overlaying it.

“For _you_, that is,” the kunoichi continued. “Lucky for _me_, your pain’s all the pleasure I need. Now go on~. Let’s see you fulfill your new purpose!”

She raised her whip again and once more struck the girl’s chest, ripping more cloth and making her cry in further pain. “Hnnnnnggggfff!!” The lashes and cries continued for the next several minutes without much pause beyond the few seconds’ lull between strikes, which alternated between coming from one direction versus the other.

Several feet to her right, the brunette girl went through her own torment. Unlike the pain-focused attention Tazuna gave the blue-banged girl, Fuji’s approach towards her friend was more subtle, and more sexual. She stood behind her bound and gagged victim, grinding against her rear as she reached forward and groped one of her breasts, clad in a black bra partially exposed by several strategic tears through her uniform. The girl whimpered behind her OTN gag as the twintailed kunoichi squeezed her chest, moving the boob of focus up and down while occasionally pushing her fingertips against the clothed flesh.

“Your friend’s hurting pretty bad over there,” Fuji pointed out. “Don’t worry, _I_ won’t do anything that harsh to you~.”

The brunette, blushing a bright red from both the sensations Fuji delivered upon her and her restricted air flow, weakly turned her head some and prepared to nod to her tormentor in thanks.

“Mmmrr-hmmmmmmph!”

An end was put to that, however, by four speedy strikes to her rear end, her skirt and part of her panties bunched up to expose the tender flesh. The crop hit her right asscheek four times, each producing a bright red welt.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re out of the clear _yourself_, you little gag slut. Let’s hear you sing some more~.” She gripped her breast a little harder as she struck her butt with the crop again, another muffled moan emerging from the girl’s packed mouth.

Just as Fuji started putting Tazuna’s usual crop to good use, Tazuna started using the bullwhip she specially selected even harder than before. The leather cord ripped more and more of the blue-banged girl’s uniform to shreds while expertly avoiding even the edges of the binding ropes around her torso. Bright red welts and other whip marks, larger than those on her friend’s rear, laid all across her breasts and belly, growing in number the more Tazuna assaulted her with the tool. In contrast to her pained moans, the kunoichi maniacally laughed as she got deeper into the torment she delivered.

“Yes, _yes_! Just like _that_! Scream for me, you impudent brat! Scream and cry until your throat’s all raw and throbbing! It’s the least you could do for your new masters!”

Ironically, the girl’s screams started dying down as the whippings came faster and faster, reduced to near-inaudible whimpers. In this direct defiance of expectations, tears streamed down both of her puffed-up cheeks, her eyes as watery as they could possibly be as the levels of coursing pain she was forced to experience continued their rise, with no discernible end in sight.

Or so she thought. Tazuna brought the whip down one more time, creating a vertical lash across her midriff. From that impact before the sudden pause to her suffering, she managed one more sharp scream. “Hnnnnnnngh!” But before she could start catching her breath post-scream, Tazuna marched up to her and forced her chin up with the whip, the meet point between the handle and the base of the thong pressing into her flesh. She whimpered again, glancing down at Tazuna in fear.

“From now on, you and your friend are nothing more than dolls, brand-new toys for us to play with to our heart’s content.”

The brunette girl looked over at Tazuna as she talked down to her friend, groaning softly behind her gag as Fuji cuddled up to her, groping her tits with both hands and rubbing their masked cheeks together. The kunoichi closed her eyes and hummed softly in great delight, squeezing gently yet with a firm grip. In return, the blue-banged girl glanced at the sight within her periphery, her eyes trembling as tears continued slowly flowing out.

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes before we finally break you. In the end, as long as you’re complacent and _we’re_ entertained...” Tazuna threw her arm back, gripping the whip handle tight as the lengthy cord swung behind her and grazed the tatami. She stared down her helpless, battered victim with her glowing red pools, and then… “…you won’t be getting any _mercy_!”

She brought her whip forward and resumed the harsh striking, the blue-banged girl closing her eyes in what little preparation she could muster for the inevitable agony of the whip’s effects.

The harsh sounds of leather against flesh, muffled cries and moans of undeniable pain and reluctant pleasure interspersed throughout, were muffled further by the shoji door, closing off the back room from the main space of the hideout. Nawa knelt on the floor with her back to the screen, her eyes closed. She remained like that for a moment more. After taking all she could stand while stationary, she moved her hands off her lap and pressed her fingertips against the floor, raising herself from the ground. With a soft grunt, she stood, facing the open window from which she returned inside. A gentle breeze flew into the room, mildly swaying her hair and the front and back loincloth portions of her rope to the side, the latter briefly exposing her shapely, white panty-clad behind. It was only a matter of time before she made her next move, to whatever destination laid in her mental sights.

********

“All right. As we’ve established, the Kunoichi are likely hiding out somewhere in Shibuya,” Naokuu explained, tapping the permanent marker against the pages of the open map book. Resting on the desk beside Shin’s bookshelf, it was open to a two-page spread of the Shibuya ward.

“Yeah,” Shin agreed, looking down at the map alongside Naokuu. “Which would explain how they can easily determine the Shimizu’s battle sites.”

“Problem is, we can’t tell _where_ in Shibuya they’re hiding. For all we know, they could be _anywhere_ within the Yakuza Golden Triangle.” He double-tapped the clicker end of the marker against the northeastern corner of Yoyogi Park twice.

“The Yakuza Golden… what now?” Shin looked at Naokuu in confusion.

“Allow me to explain.” Naokuu flipped the marker around in his hand as he moved it across the map, which he mentally visualized in a 3D plane with individual blocks at various heights representing the buildings all throughout the area of interest. “Of all the clans presently participating in the Great Yakuza War, three of the strongest are based in Northern Shibuya.”

He then imagined a red dot manifesting below the text for his current neighborhood of interest. 代々木. Yoyogi.

“First off, we have the Shimizu clan of Yoyogi, easily the strongest and most dangerous yakuza family in the Tokyo metropolis, if not Japan overall.”

Joining the red dot were the semi-detailed silhouettes of multiple yakuza. The attack forces leader and his unhinged subordinate were the most recognizable among the black-tinted figures, the former staring forward with a furious scowl and crossed arms, and the latter frozen in the middle of rushing someone or something with his sword, his mouth opened wide enough to release a wild scream. The others, though, were less recognizable, but not necessarily generic. To the right of the attack forces leader was the formal ponytailed yakuza from the Shimizu-Natsukaji battle weeks prior, holding up his pistol as if he were hiding behind a wall waiting to rush out and point it at whoever laid behind his spot. Behind all three were a bald yakuza in a sleeveless fur-lined coat holding up an odachi with his non-wielding hand touching the end of the blade with his index and middle digits, and another with a tall crew-cut and a hoodie holding up two submachine guns, one in each hand. Both of them had their backs to the screen, looking off to either side. In the middle of all five was their representative title. 清水族. The Shimizu clan.

Then, the red line bent and moved southeast, ending in another red dot that just as quickly manifested below the next focus. 千駄ヶ谷. Sendagaya.

“To the east in Sendagaya are their mortal enemies, the Kigokoro.”

As with the Shimizu, the Kigokoro’s locale also had silhouettes. The punch-permed attack leader was at the top, his head cocked and eye mid-twitch as he held his sword behind him one-handed, the back of the blade resting against his own back. Down and to the left was his bald subordinate, frozen in the middle of a walking pose as his blade’s dull end rested on his right shoulder. And to the right was the subordinate with the long bangs on one side, gripping his sword in a post-attack pose with both hands, the blade pointing to the right as his left arm crossed over his body in a near-horizontal position. At the bottom, out of the way of all three, was _their_ moniker. 木心族. The Kigokoro clan.

“Not nearly as aggressive, but powerful enough to hold their own against the Shimizu.”

The red line moved again, heading south to another instantaneous red dot. 原宿. Harajuku.

“Finally, to the south is Harajuku’s Hakkara clan.”

The silhouettes accompanying the Harajuku dot were much less detailed than the outlined and tinted-dark sketches comprising the other two clans. One man was in front, but his back was turned, as if he were walking away. His hair was neatly kempt, and his sense of dress surprisingly classy. In the distance were a large array of shadows, melting into one another so thoroughly that it couldn’t be told what direction they were facing. Even so, above them, their designation remained the same. 白柄族. The Hakkara clan.

“Unlike the others, they rarely have any battles, but their defensive skills are said to be the best of the best.”

One last turn, and the red line headed back to the dot in Yoyogi. As it did, Naokuu’s mental picture zoomed out to show all three dots at once, and the shape they formed.

“These three are considered the top dogs of the yakuza community, and they’re in close proximity to one another to boot. For those reasons, their combined domain was given a name…”

Then, the inside of the enclosed area glowed an opaque gold, as similarly colored calligraphy with black borders superimposed itself atop it.

暴力団金三角

“The Yakuza Golden Triangle.”

His exposition finished, Naokuu’s mental map faded away, leaving only the physical map of Shibuya, and the Sharpie marker triangle representing the three clans’ main territories, from Yoyogi to Sendagaya to Harajuku and back to Yoyogi.

“And that’s where you say the Kunoichi are hiding.” Shin put his hand to his chin, gently touching the elbow with his other. “That’s all well and good, but where within the Triangle _are_ they, exactly?”

“For starters, we should rule out Harajuku.”

“Hm?” Shin blinked and glanced at Naokuu.

“Like I said, the Hakkara’s defenses are _good_. Good enough to deter any chance of a Shimizu invasion. And also…” His gaze down at the map narrowed. “To root out even those that manage to slip by. The Kunoichi’s abductions require repeated back-and-forth movement, so I don’t think they would take that serious a risk.”

“I see…”

“Not only that, but the Shimizu don’t even border the Hakkara, while the Kigokoro are practically their next-door neighbors. Plus the Kigokoro base their battles on the Shimizu’s activity at the time.” He sighed, closing his eyes and slouching his back some. “Really, it’s a toss-up, which of those two they’re nesting amongst.”

“_Great_…” Shin complained, bringing his hand to his forehead. “It’s gonna take us all _night_ to figure it out, at this rate…”

“At least, that’s how it is at face value.”

“Huh?” Shin opened his eyes and glanced at Naokuu through the open area between his thumb and index finger.

“After giving it much thought, I’ve determined that the Kunoichi are hiding in Yoyogi. On top of that…” He turned to Shin, his left hand firmly rooted on his hip. “I know _where _in Yoyogi they’re hiding.”

Shin gasped softly. “How did you…”

Naokuu grunted, his confident grin widening. “I _did_ say I was way ahead of you, Shin.”

Shin’s eyes twitched slightly as he quickly realized what he meant. “No _way_…”

However, the understanding he felt wasn’t a joyous one.

“You’re telling me you knew this _whole_ time and didn’t even bother to _tell_ me!?”

“Hey, I couldn’t help it! You had your exams, I had an emotional breakdown, there just wasn’t any time to say it!”

“Oh, like _hell_ there wasn’t!”

Contrary to the argument arising within the second-story bedroom, the Nakano night air outside of the Kizuka residence was quiet, calm, relaxing. A starker contrast to the battle going on in Shibuya. Persisting into the late night hours, as battles of their ilk normally did.

********

Though the lingering sounds of sword clashes, gunshots, and other miscellaneous impacts from the continuing battle between the Shimizu and Kigokoro echoed in the background, Nawa chose to ignore them. Standing at the corner of the rooftop of their hideout, she looked to the northwest, her arms crossed as the occasional light wind blew through her ass-length hair, the low tie-off point for her subtle ponytail preventing the individual strands from flailing about in disarray. She silently admired the night sky, tinted blue by the glow of the city lights that were still on at the present hour. After another moment’s stare, she closed her eyes, but not for further savor.

“Finished already, I see.”

“Not quite, Mistress,” Tazuna replied.

The ponytailed kunoichi and her twintailed compatriot stood a few meters length away from Nawa, on the floor of the roof as opposed to the concrete parapet. Tazuna had one hand on her hip, while both of Fuji’s hands were behind her back.

“We’re just taking a short break, that’s all.”

“Who knew toying with two girls at once would tire us out so fast?”

“Don’t get us wrong, though.” Tazuna took a few steps forward, bringing her other hand to her other hip. “I could play with them _both_ all night if I wanted to!” She closed her eyes and haughtily laughed.

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying our selections, Tazuna. Keep up the good work.”

“Yes, Mistress!” Tazuna enthusiastically responded with a quick yet ardent nod.

“You too, Fuji.”

Fuji perked up a little, the attention Nawa gave her interrupting her glance over at Tazuna and, with a blink, alerting her to stand upright with her arms at her sides. “R-Right.”

“And I don’t just mean your domination skills. Your bondage has been improving as well. Tonight’s abduction was proof of that.” Nawa turned her head and looked back at Fuji. “The speedy execution you demonstrated was far from the novice you once were, especially considering your rope handling and jam gagging techniques. If not for your efforts, we may not have finished as soon as we did. To put it simply, I’m proud of you, Fuji.”

Fuji’s eyes were wide and sparkling at the praise Nawa gave her, a few soft and high-pitched gasps escaping from her hidden mouth as she took it all in. She then closed her eyes and blushed, raising her right arm and rubbing the back of her head. “Aw, gee, thank you so much, Mistress!”

Tazuna glanced at Fuji’s initial reaction, returning her gaze forward with a blink as she finished her thanks.

“So does that mean I can… you know…”

“Not a chance.”

“Ohh…” Fuji hung her head in disappointment.

Having turned around to face her subordinates for the first time since their arrival, Nawa hopped off the parapet and seated herself on the corner, her hands on either stretch of the makeshift bench.

“Don’t get me wrong. Your work remains exceptional, as do your efforts towards amending your previous mistakes, but that doesn’t automatically mean you’re allowed on solo missions again. A mere week’s worth of dedication to improvement is not enough,” she continued, taking out her fan and opening it up. “Give me another week of the same, maybe two, and I’ll _consider _allowing you another shot. Are those terms acceptable, Fuji?”

Fuji looked down at the ground, her visible blush faded from a red of pride to a pink of shame. She raised her head slightly and closed her eyes, sighing at Nawa’s question before responding in exhaustion.

“Yeah…”

“Are you sure?” Nawa asked, lightly waving her fan. “You don’t sound too enthused.”

“N-No! I’m _totally_ enthused! Totally!” Fuji turned her head away, her right eye twitching as she furrowed her brow in an attempt to hold back her frustration. “It’s just that I don’t like being lectured like this, is all…” She then closed both eyes and let out an upset groan. “If it wasn’t for that damn policeman, I wouldn’t be _in_ this situation!”

Tazuna looked at Fuji during her brief breakdown, and then turned back to Nawa. “Pardon me for changing the subject like this, Mistress, but surely you’ve noticed we haven’t had any interference these past couple of weeks, from the policeman Fuji met, or from _any_ cops, for that matter. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“Hmm… Odd, yes. But not unwelcome.”

“There’s also the boy. He hasn’t taken any action either.”

Fuji sighed softly behind her mask as she calmed herself down from her earlier frustration. She then turned to Tazuna, cheerfully giggling as if it had never happened to begin with. “Guess kidnapping his little harem did the trick!”

“But considering his course of action the first time…” Tazuna put her hand to her chin in thought. “You’d think the cops would only _intensify_ their pursuit of us, were that the case.”

“And _that’s_ assuming the boy and the detective are working together.” Fuji blinked and looked at Nawa. “Wouldn’t you think so, Mistress? I mean, that _was_ your theory, wasn’t it?”

Nawa remained silent for a few moments, fanning herself as she looked at both girls. And then, all of a sudden, she closed both her eyes and the fan.

“Who’s to say?”

Tazuna and Fuji both gasped softly, looking up with Nawa as she rose from her seat.

“We let the boy roam free after he witnessed our deeds, and a few days later, the policeman caught us in the act with the intent of stopping us. Those two facts are irrefutable.” She took the closed fan and stuck it back in her cleavage, pushing against the slats until they disappeared into her valley. “But their connection is ambiguous, if existent at all.”

Just then, Nawa leaped into the air, fast enough to almost disappear like she and her associates did whenever moving from one place to another at a large distance. As quickly as she launched, she landed on the corner of the parapet, legs together, one hand on her hip and the other hanging by her side, and the wind blowing through her hair and loincloth as she looked down at both Tazuna and Fuji.

“It _is_ possible. The boy _could_ have told the policeman about us and worked with him to catch us the first chance they had, as in my theory.” She turned around, once more facing Nakano in the distance. “But it’s also possible that the boy followed our orders and kept quiet, while the policeman’s confrontation was no more than coincidence. Without concrete evidence, there’s no confirming any connection between the two.”

Fuji grunted softly, her eyebrows upturning. “So it’s up in the air, huh?”

Tazuna returned her hands to her hips and scoffed. “Whatever. At least their lack of action means we won’t have to bother with them anymore.” As she spoke, she turned around and walked away, her ponytail whipping around as she did.

Fuji glanced back at Tazuna, turning around and running to catch up with her. “Yeah, but you gotta admit, we had some good fun thanks to them.” Once beside Tazuna, she slowed down to match her pace, putting her hands behind her back and leaning forward, smiling at her with her eyes. “It isn’t often that I get to toy with a boy or make a daring escape from the cops!”

“Nor have we ever staked out and abducted predetermined targets. _That_ certainly made for good field experience.”

“That it did, Tazuna,” Fuji agreed with a cheerful nod.

“Now, let’s head back. We can’t have our new toys thinking we’re _done_ with them.”

“Yeah, their suffering’s only just _begun_~!”

As Fuji and Tazuna walked towards the rooftop structure leading inside the building below, laughing together in anticipation of what they had planned next for their victims of the evening, Nawa remained standing and staring forward. As before, she kept silent for a moment. Then, she closed her eyes and spoke.

“You fools. Just because they’ve made no moves as of late…”

She reopened her eyes, the amber orbs filled with the confidence of a new theory.

“…don’t assume that one won’t be coming soon.”

A large gust of wind blew upon the building housing the kunoichi’s hideout, making Nawa’s hair sway behind her as it had before. In spite of its greater strength, Nawa paid the flurry no mind, remaining in place with her arms crossed and her gaze fixed forward.

The nighttime wind persisted, traversing its way around the overall structure in whatever various directions they came from. The building was tall for the slum-like neighborhood surrounding it, numbering eleven stories as opposed to five or seven. Each story above the first consisted of a linear pattern of windows going from one side to the other. One window, then one window, then three grouped together. One, then one, then three. One, one, three. The pattern repeated until ending in two more solitary windows at the end, creating symmetry on both the north and south faces. However, the omnipresence of incomplete windowpanes, either shattered or absent altogether, broke the suggested symmetry, to the point of almost coming off as cruel. Above the top floor was an additional height of building, the base of the roof parapets. In large red channel letters, unlit but legible against the white steel exterior, was the name of the establishment.

羅原木コンプレックス

It was there in the northwest corner, and again in the southeast. On either side of the building, to the west and the east, were external staircases, moving from one floor to the next in an organized pattern. The first floors had groups of entrances on the north and south sides in the exact middle, alongside window patterns matching up to whatever were on the floors directly above. The roof had multiple structures for accessing the rest of the building, in the middle of each face. Finally, in the center of the roof were four large air conditioners and multiple HVAC units bunched together between the north and south stair structures, all decrepit and non-functioning.

The other striking dissimilarity between the building and those surrounding it was distance. In the four cardinal directions, there was about 100 to 150 feet of space between the complex and the wall of buildings surrounding it. No signs of streets, either. Beyond a single asphalt perimeter directly inside the very outside boundary, all that stood between the eleven-story structure and the rest of Yoyogi was a flat, empty landscape of dirt and dust.

From the northwest parapet to the northeast corner of the seventh floor, and the southeast corner of the fifth to the middle of the first, front-facing to bird’s-eye to top-down, the ivory monolith housing the Kinky Kunoichi’s inner sanctum was thus. A solitary apartment building inside Shimizu territory, isolated from the rest of the neighborhood the native yakuza called home.

********

“Right here,” Naokuu said, bringing his index finger down onto the southern part of Yoyogi. To be more specific, in the exact spot where the lone structure stood.

Shin blinked as he looked down, slightly apprehensive. “You sure about this?”

“Oh, I’m _sure_, believe it,” Naokuu replied, his grin widening in confidence as he pulled his finger away. “The Kunoichi’s hideout is _here_, inside the abandoned housing project on the Shimizu main territory’s south side.”

Below the rectangle representing the building, in the empty space surrounding, was its name.

羅原木コンプレックス

Also known as…

“The Rabaraki Complex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A synthwave sun is a graphical representation of a setting sun, a gradient from yellow at the top to orange in the middle and finally pink at the bottom. The first third is typically solid, while the rest is split into horizontal lines, becoming thinner and spaced further apart from top to bottom.  
2\. Outrun is another name for the design style/music genre of synthwave. In the context Naokuu’s using, it’s synonymous with darksynth, a more intense subgenre removed from the relaxing vaporwave styles grouped in with the main genre.


End file.
